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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498440">Here it Comes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist'>terma_archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 09:20:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA">TER/MA</a> and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile">the TER/MA collection profile</a>.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TER/MA</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Here it Comes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA">TER/MA</a> and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile">the TER/MA collection profile</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<br/>
<b>Here it Comes<br/>by Raietta</b>
</p>
<p><br/> 	Through the window they saw the first streaks of dawn, and knew it 	was coming. Just a few more minutes, and it would be here. 
</p>
<p>	"This is all your fault," Mulder sulked, sitting on the floor of his 	kitchen, legs spraddled out before him limply. 
</p>
<p>	Across the room from him, Krycek stared at the FBI agent in 	astonishment. "MY fault!?" he squawked, "<i>MY</i> fault?!?! How the hell 	is this mess MY fault?!" 
</p>
<p>	Mulder pouted and folded his arms grumpily. "I don't know yet, but 	I'm sure it is, all the same." 
</p>
<p>	Alex Krycek gave him a disgusted look. "You moron." 
</p>
<p>	"Don't call me a moron!" Mulder snapped, ire sparking in his hazel 	eyes. "Bastard!" 
</p>
<p>	"You are a moron," Krycek snapped back, sitting against the kitchen 	wall, legs drawn up, arms limp at his sides. "Blaming me for this 	fiasco. That's exactly what you are. A great, big, annoying, 	infuriating, paranoid idiotic smartass imbecilic MORON!" 
</p>
<p>	"I'm warning you, Krycek—" Mulder began irately, stirring 	sluggishly to life, "—don't make me come over there and kick your 	ass!" 
</p>
<p>	"Well, come on, big boy!" Krycek taunted, green eyes gleaming. "Just 	scoot yourself right over here and show me what's what!" 
</p>
<p>	This was all the incentive Mulder needed. He launched himself at the 	assassin, and the two rolled around the kitchen floor for a couple 	of minutes, snarling and biting and pulling hair and landing kidney 	punches and hurling insults crazed enough to make an inmate at 	Bedlam blink. 
</p>
<p>	Outside the window, pink fingers of light dawned faintly from over 	the horizon, soft and serene and silent. 
</p>
<p>	The two men scrabbled on the floor, rolling over one another until 	they ran into the kitchen table. Mulder's head cracked against a 	table leg, and he howled. 
</p>
<p>	"Christ fucked Mary!" he shrieked. 
</p>
<p>	"Mulder!" Krycek hissed, appalled and suddenly showing a side to 	himself no-one had ever seen before. "You watch your language, you 	damned blasphemer!" 
</p>
<p>	"I'll blaspheme <i>you</i>, you two-timing double-crossing punk-nosed 	skinny-boned conscious-less sonuvabitch!" Mulder swung a fist into 	Krycek's gut, and Krycek reciprocated. 
</p>
<p>	Then they rolled around on the floor some more. 
</p>
<p>	Then they got bored after a while, and stopped, and retired to 	neutral corners of the kitchen. There, in silence, they sat for a 	while. Mulder nursed a bloody nose, and Krycek wiped at a bloody 	lip. 
</p>
<p>	"Bastard," Mulder muttered, after a while. 
</p>
<p>	"Moron," Krycek muttered back from around a swollen lip. 
</p>
<p>	More silence. 
</p>
<p>	"I think you broke my jaw," Krycek finally said, and Mulder snorted. 
</p>
<p>	"Krycek, the end of the world is at hand. I could've bitten your 	fucking nose off, and it wouldn't make a goddamned bit of 	difference. In about three minutes, it won't matter at all anymore." 	He sat for a moment, and Krycek stared gloomily at the ceiling, 	which was cracked and stained. "Plus," Mulder continued, "if your 	jaw <i>was</i> broken, I don't think you'd be able to talk." 
</p>
<p>	Krycek briefly considered a scathing retort, but then figured he was 	too tired and his jaw hurt too much to bother. He just stared at the 	ceiling instead. 
</p>
<p>	"Goddammit," Mulder groused, pouting at the floor. "I can't believe 	this." 
</p>
<p>	"Believe what? I thought you believed anything, as long as it was 	highly implausible and confounded logic." 
</p>
<p>	"I can't fucking believe that the end of the world is here, and I 	get to witness it with <i>you</i>. Out of all the people I get stuck 	dying with, I get stuck dying with <i>you</i>." 
</p>
<p>	"Well," Krycek snapped, "I'm ever so sorry that Scully couldn't be 	here to experience the Apocalypse with you instead. I'm sure that 	the moment the Cosmic Maitre D' finds out he screwed up your 	reservations, he'll just rush right over and fix it for you, seeing 	as the whole fucking universe revolves around you." 
</p>
<p>	"Fuck you, asshole!" Mulder shouted. 
</p>
<p>	"Fuck you right back, prick!" Krycek shouted in return. 
</p>
<p>	"You amoral bastard!" 
</p>
<p>	"You arrogant fuck!" 
</p>
<p>	"I hate you!" 
</p>
<p>	"I despise you!" 
</p>
<p>	"I'd kill you now with my bare hands," Mulder roared, "if the end of 	the world wasn't about five seconds into the future and it would 	just be a waste of time!" 
</p>
<p>	"You couldn't kill me if I was tied up, unconscious, and rigged up 	to an incendiary device and all you had to do was throw the switch, 	you clueless clumsy hopeless psycho!" 
</p>
<p>	The two were by now so incensed that they started throwing objects 	at one another without actually getting up off the floor. Mulder 	hurled pots, pans, a poached egg frier, and a colander at Krycek, 	who retaliated with an egg beater, a spatula, two wooden spoons, and 	a coffee mug. They both, of course, had terrible aim, and their 	projectiles sailed harmlessly through the air and bounced safely off 	of walls and cabinets, but not actual bodies. Steak knives whirled 	and thunked safely into cabinet doors, buried to their hilts. 	Really, it was quite sad. 
</p>
<p>	After a while they both ran out of ammo within arm's reach, and were 	too lazy to get up and find more. So they just sat listlessly 	instead. Mulder inspected the wall across from him, and Krycek 	inspected his knees. 
</p>
<p>	Silence in the kitchen. 
</p>
<p>	"Hey," Mulder said suddenly, breaking it, "remember that one time 	when you gave me a blowjob in the office right before our meeting 	with the chief of police? Back when we were partners?" 
</p>
<p>	Krycek smiled, remembering. "Yeah." 
</p>
<p>	Mulder smiled, too. 
</p>
<p>	"Remember that one time when we decided to have sex in a car while 	on a stakeout?" Krycek asked, and Mulder grinned and replied, "Sure 	do. Scully almost caught us, that time." 
</p>
<p>	"Remember... that one time... in the hotel... with the vase and the 	cleaning maid?" Krycek asked, and Mulder nodded. They were both 	quiet for a moment, remembering the hotel incident. 
</p>
<p>	"We never did manage to clean off the walls with that one, did we?" 	Mulder asked. 
</p>
<p>	Krycek shook his head, and they both smiled. 
</p>
<p>	Outside, the sky turned red. 
</p>
<p>	"Y'know, Mulder," Krycek began slowly, "since we're gonna die 	anyway, in a couple of minutes, why don't we—" 
</p>
<p>	"No," Mulder cut in shortly, scowling. 
</p>
<p>	"Why the hell not? What better way is there to go?" Krycek demanded. 
</p>
<p>	"Krycek," Mulder began, his face perfectly blank, "I would rather 	have my head hacked off with a butter knife while fully conscious 	and with all my faculties intact than have sex with you." 
</p>
<p>	Krycek whistled. "A butter knife? That's damn freaky, Mulder." 
</p>
<p>	"Old case of mine." 
</p>
<p>	"Ah." 
</p>
<p>	Silence in the kitchen. 
</p>
<p>	Outside, the sky turned green. Clouds began to roil, a dull orange. 	It was a technicolor nightmare. 
</p>
<p>	"So, did you ever bang 'er?" 
</p>
<p>	Mulder looked up, startled. "Huh?" 
</p>
<p>	"Scully," Krycek explained. "Did you ever fuck her? Do the wild 	fandango? Do the horizontal electric slide? Do the nasty? Fuck like 	weasels? Do the rabbit hop? Do some special hugging? You know, have 	sex?" 
</p>
<p>	Mulder's face grew an interesting shade of red. "Krycek! You shut 	your goddamned mouth! It's none of your goddamned business, anyway!" 
</p>
<p>	"Oh, come on, Mulder," Krycek taunted. "We're all gonna be dead in a 	second, why not just tell me? What difference does it make? So, did 	you two get down and dirty with each other? Didja do some laps? Make 	like the beast with two backs? Inquiring minds want to know." 
</p>
<p>	"Raaaaaggghhh!" Mulder replied, and launched himself again at 	Krycek, who let out a little shriek. 
</p>
<p>	They rolled around the kitchen floor some more, jabbing and kicking, 	howling obscenities. They crashed into a cabinet, shaking the whole 	wall, and a stack of plates rattled and fell off a shelf, smashing 	loudly. 
</p>
<p>	Mulder began throttling Krycek. "Shut up! Shut up! Just shut the 	fuck up!" 
</p>
<p>	"Ack!" Krycek gagged. "Ack! Make me, G-man! Ack!" 
</p>
<p> 	They rolled back into the kitchen table, which rocked, spilling a 	jar of flowers that Scully had given Mulder the day before. More 	crashes. More screaming and howling. More breaking flatware. Krycek 	grabbed a half of a soup bowl and smashed it over Mulder's head. 	Mulder kneed his groin. More rolling around the floor like an 	overzealous tumbling display. Smash. Boom. Punch. Thwap. Bam. 	Crunch. Crack. Shoom. Splatter. 
</p>
<p>	The boys fetched up against the dishwasher and began pummeling one 	another in earnest. 
</p>
<p>	Outside, the sky turned black with green and blue flames. Pink 	streaks flowed inkily over the sky. Then a crystalline tide of 	white, pure sparkling white, spilled over the horizon, swallowed up 	the blackness, and washed over them all. 
</p>
<p> 	THE END
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
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      <td>RATING: G for sex, but NC-17 for language 
<br/>	SPOILERS: I have no idea. So I'll say "yes" for all of 'em and play 	it safe. 
<br/>	ANNOYING DISCLAIMER THING: Sigh. Some day... some day... some day 	I'll have enough dope on CC to nail him to the wall. Then they'll be 	<i>miiiine</i> (maniacal laughter). 
<br/>	AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a three-second snippet I wrote on the spot. 	It will be very short, and probably bad, because the computer I'm 	using is not mine, and its owner keeps on poking me in the shoulder 	and asking to have it back. Dammit. This little snippet came to life 	b/c earlier I finished reading one M/K fic with a character death, 	wept copiously, then read another M/K character death fic, screamed 	in agony, then read yet another M/K character death fic and finally 	said, "Enough is enough! All of these character deaths are damn 	depressing!" Duh. So, here comes Raietta to the rescue, out to 	remedy this with a nice, silly, non-tragic M/K character death fic. 	Please, forgive me. It's over a hundred degrees where I am and we 	have no air conditioning. The heat has gone straight to my head. 	<br/>BONUS: Fifty M/K bonus points to the reader who spots the 	unauthorized Araxdelan quote! (sorry, Rax, for 1) sneaking in a 	quote o' yours and 2) calling you Rax.)<br/>[email removed] 
</td>
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